


The Things We Loved

by helenumbrella



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Sentimental
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 15:15:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6663808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helenumbrella/pseuds/helenumbrella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Annabeth during the days that Percy was stuck on Calypso's island.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Things We Loved

Annabeth never thought she would get attached. For a week after the blast on Mt. Saint Helens, she floated around in the Big Cabin in her ratty orange camp shirt and jean shorts, straightening knick knacks from time to time, staring at the leopard mounting on the wall behind the infirmary beds. She didn't have visitors, everyone in the camp had heard what had happened, and had collectively decided to give Annabeth some space. That didn't stop Clarisse from slamming open the door to the Big House on the fifth day, intent on knocking sense into Annabeth's head. 

"What is wrong with you?" Clarisse snapped, "We don't have time for your brooding, the labyrinth collapsed and monsters started showing up directly at the base of the hill." 

Annabeth turned from her half-hearted position on one of the infirmary beds. "I'm no damsel, Clarisse. What if it was Chris?"

Clarissa gaped, open-mouthed. Seconds passed by, and Annabeth stood up. "Nobody comes out of that kind of explosion alive. His funeral is tomorrow, and the prophecy will not happen in my lifetime. To lose a love to a fate worse than death, Clarisse. Janus came to me and I chose. But I'll never forgive myself for that choice." And just like that, the conversation is over, Annabeth curls back up in her bed, Clarisse walks outside. 

Annabeth never thought she would get attached. She hates to pretend that she doesn't care if Percy isn't screaming annabeth annabeth annabeth like her body is screaming percy percy percy, a palpable echo that reverberates for miles around. 

Annabeth never thought she would get attached. She does not cry. On the first day of her second week back to camp, Athena appears at the end of her hospice bed as she is waking up. Annabeth refuses to look.

Athena is hesitant beyond her wit's end. She starts off slowly: "I'm sorry you didn't get your quest." That is when Annabeth cries a dry sob into her pillow, chest collapsed and heaving. "I promise I will get you another one." Annabeth looks up. her eyes are rimmed with a feverish scarlet, her nose is wet with slob. "It was never about the quest." Annabeth whispers, "It was about him." She never elaborates on who she means by "him" but her mother says simply: "It was never your choice to see which one you would lose a love to a fate worse than death." Annabeth looks up. "They decided themselves. He will come back to this camp sometime this week, but make sure that you ask him why he stayed."

Twenty years later, Annabeth remembers the question in a dream. When she wakes up, she utters no sound, but Percy is attuned to her thoughts and wonder. 

He smiles, tucks a curl behind her ear, and whispers: "I couldn't stop thinking about you."


End file.
